Last month I waved goodbye to Erika as she packed up her life and moved to Michigan. I was so sad when she left, I can’t even really tell you. I was worried that the physical distance between us might change our friendship. Yeah, um, how stupid was I? We still text constantly, AND she mailed me the best present ever, just because. Check it:
Sequinned short-shorts? HELLZ YES! She knows me so well. Even though it’s been freezing cold in Chicago, I’ve worn them around apartment more or less constantly. To say I’m obsessed is an understatement; I can’t wait til it gets warm again so that I can wear them outside without getting frostbite.
Anyway. Erika is awesome and it’s sucked having her anywhere else but here. So imagine how excited I was when she told me she was coming back to Chicago for a visit! I about combusted with happiness, then drove everyone crazy by talking non-stop about unicorns. Yeah, we’re in our twenties and are still obsessed with unicorns. No big deal.
Anyway. We met up at Holiday Club on Wednesday night for karaoke and drinking, which was about the best decision ever made because it was non-stop hilarious from start to finish. I love this photo, incidentally; how cute is Erika? Seriously!
Here we are, a few dranks into our night. The gorgeous lady on the right is Berri, who is pretty much the funniest chick I’ve met in ages. Berri is a great person to have around on nights out, firstly because you’ll never stop laughing, but ALSO because she writes down everything funny or stupid that people say. She’s the personification of the Hypoid, for the twenty people who know what that means. I love her.
Within five minutes of meeting him, Juan had taken off his pants to show us a tattoo. Or something. Um. Juan and I got off to a weird start; first I loved him because he gave me a massive hug as soon as we met, then I was wary because he said that I didn’t seem evil. He won me over in the end, though, because he’s one of the only people to whom I can say “I like your accent” and mean it (he’s from Costa Rica). And I proved that I’m not pure evil after we had a rap battle to see who knew more words to “Baby Got Back.” I won. Respect.
Guys, let’s discuss how Holiday had CUPCAKES at kareoke. OMGLOLWTF, life is awesome. Of course, because I showed up an hour late, I’d missed out. Boo. However there were a couple of the rings used as cupcake decoration lying around on our table. On a whim, I picked one up, licked the icing off the back of it (gross) and asked Erika to marry me. She tearfully accepted, so now we’re engaged. Just to make my point, I stuck a spider ring on her pinky as well. Juan asked what I was doing; I said “I liked it, and so I put a ring on it.”
As far as the kareoke went, it kinda didn’t go down because everyone wanted to do something different. E’s brother sang “Twist it” and we danced onstage with him; Berri sang twice; I wanted everyone to sing “I want it that way” but you can’t sing that alone and nobody else would do Backstreet Boys with me; Erika wanted to do a group version of “Out of Africa” but nobody knew the words. While we were arguing over the songs, someone started to sing “Part of your world” from The Little Mermaid and hello, I know every word to every song from that movie. Berri and I started to dramatically perform it from our booth. This photo was taken right before the lines “What’s a fire, and why does it, what’s the word, BUUUUUUUUUURN!” which is the best part of the song. Next time we go, I’m singing “Poor, unfortunate souls” and that’s THAT.
Oh, did I say that karaoke kinda didn’t happen? I fibbed. Because we signed Erika up to sing “Poison” by Bel Biv Devoe before she could stop us. Even though we didn’t quite know the words, we worked it out. We got a standing ovation because we’re a big deal. Really into it.
Here’s Juan, and he’s doing something disgusting. His tongue is split, and he can WIGGLE BOTH HALVES INDEPENDENTLY, OH MY GOD. I was intrigued and creeped out at the same time & I bugged him with questions about it for a good fifteen minutes because I am so nosy and annoying like that. My friends make me feel so naked and boring; I have the tattoos on my legs, my ears pierced three times apiece (but not stretched) and my nose is pierced. Meanwhile everyone else is tatted up and pierced and modded and it looks AWESOME. I need to step my game up.
After Holiday Club closed & we stood outside talking about dogs (and daughters and coffee, no big whoop), we decided to head over to Flatiron. On the way, we had a sing-a-long to MIA & Erika explained to Juan how I’m Jesus. When he looked confused, she explained further by telling him “Oh come on. You think Jesus wants to wear anything except a fur coat?…And maybe alligator shoes?” “…Boots with the fur!” I started to sing. It was contagious. “The whole club was lookin’ at her!” Yeah. You love me, right?
Here’s the coat that I mentioned. I got a LOT of funny looks wearing it to Flatiron, which is most certainly not a fur coat kind of place. In this picture, Erika and I are figuring out that we’re both wearing pins shaped like bows. “True Ladies wear bow pins,” said Erika. “Yeah, that just happened.”
A cute picture of Erika and Juan. I felt kind of bad for him because, as I’ve mentioned, we’re OBSESSED with unicorns and the Youtube series Planet Unicorn. We kept talking about how our ambrosia salad has too many churrrrrries on it and constantly giving it up for Feathers. Juan was so confused. He kept shaking his head and saying “Unicorn planet? What? A fur jacket? Tom Cruise?”
We ran into Matt, because I always run into Matt at Flatiron, and Matt’s beard which is not always this majestic. My Hollywood Husband is so delightful, even five years into our Hollywood Marriage. Though I do I wish I saw him during the day more often. Hear that, boy? Let’s go to breakfast, or we’re getting a divorce and YOU get the kid. Alex is at such a troubling age anyway; the terrible thirty-twos…
All in all, it was a fantastic night that was followed by a fantastic hangover. My mission–to get Erika so drunk that she’d have no choice BUT to stay in Chicago–was half accomplished, as she told me that she was too drunk to get up the stairs and had to sleep on the couch instead. Next time, Miss Gomez! THERE’S ALWAYS A NEXT TIME!